


Decay

by birchwood-drifter (oh_no_melon), oh_no_melon



Category: Toy Story (Movies)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hiding in Plain Sight, M/M, Major Character Injury, Rating May Change, Running Away, Sad sad sad, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, but maybe a happier end?, day by day living, i mean how though, kids don't know their own strength, long story, time passes differently for toys, toys hiding for safety, toys on the run, worrying about the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25920280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_no_melon/pseuds/birchwood-drifter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_no_melon/pseuds/oh_no_melon
Summary: When Bonnie's friend accidentally causes Buzz to have a major break, he and Woody begin wondering if their time as Bonnie's toys is coming to an end. Set post TS3 with no hints of TS4. A long, slow burn of a story with lots of sad moments but there may be a light at the end of a long tunnel. Updates sporadically but will try for twice a month (usually on Sundays).
Relationships: Buzz Lightyear/Woody Pride
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	1. Dissolved

"It was an accident!" the little boy screamed, crying because his friend was crying and he knew he'd be in trouble for it.

For what it was worth, he wasn't lying. It was simply an accident of a five year old exerting too much energy on something that appeared indestructible with nothing nefarious intended. That didn't make him feel any better when his friend began wailing and running toward the front door where her mother would surely be and he would get a stern talking to."Bonnie, please don't tell your mom!" He chased after her and soon all that remained of playtime was a gaggle of confused toys and an empty spot where a spaceman had been.

The time it took for Bonnie's friend, Matthew, to arrive at her house for a play-date and subsequently end the play-date in tears was roughly an hour in total. She hadn't been one to have friends over often and her mother thought Matthew was such a fun kid that it would be a perfect match. They had a blast; like-minded and entertained by the other's imaginations and toys but Matthew had just a little too much strength for an aging toy like Buzz Lightyear and snapping his arm clean from the pivot bolt deep inside his shoulder was bound to happen. This was unlike the time his arm popped out when he made that erroneous jump in Sid's home; this was a clean break while the bolt remained inside and his arm was gripped in Bonnie's hand.

Motionless but worried, the others held steady while the cries lessened from inside the house. The curiosity and fear was welling inside them but only Woody decided to throw caution to the wind and make an investigation of it. There was a vast difference between a popped out arm and hearing the plastic snap as it had which made one toy stand in the grass, their former playground, and walk through the daylight without fear.

"Woody!" Trixie gasped out, reaching out for him as she was the closest to him, "Don't move! They'll see you!" Her little arm wiggled just enough to emphasize but not enough to stop him. The others only moved their eyes as far as they could until he moved from their peripheral but he offered Trixie, all of them, comfort.

"I need to make sure Buzz's ok; don't worry. I won't be seen."

Not that he cared if he were seen, not at that moment. He was closest to Buzz and Matthew when the arm broke and the sound of that cracking plastic echoed in his head, then the sound of silence followed by the sound of Bonnie's wailing and Matthew's panic. As his legs brought him closer to the house, he could still hear Bonnie's muffled crying and the sound of Matthew asking to go home between choked sobs. Woody knew he hadn't meant to do it but part of him, inside, felt anger toward the kid as if he had been plotting the act since his conception. Bonnie was so gentle with them and knew just how to handle such old toys; why did Mom have to think it was a good idea to invite someone over?

In the bustle of two crying children, the front door was left ajar and no one paid it any mind. Woody snuck in, unseen as promised, and hid behind the houseplant that should be moved as nearly everyone who entered had stubbed their toe on it once or twice. For now, it was perfect cover and Woody listened to every word that came from the adult's mouths while hidden. Mom had Bonnie's head buried in her thigh while she cried and Matthew was holding Mom's hand; all the while talking on the phone.

"-they were playing outside and there was an accident. Oh no, no, Shawnee, he's fine. No one was hurt," Woody narrowed his eyes at that. Someone was, in fact, hurt! "One of Bonnie's toys got broken. I think he's just a little overwhelmed; wants to go home." She paced with the little ones hanging on her and when she mentioned going home, Matthew wailed louder for effect. Buzz was nowhere to be seen so Woody thought the worst immediately; what if he had already been thrown away? Mom continued speaking when Matthew's crying calmed once more.

"Oh, absolutely not. No, there's no reason for you to pay for it; it was an accident and it's already an old toy. And besides, Jay's already working on fixing it." An audible sigh of relief would have been the ideal reaction if Woody were able but he was still hiding, still listening intently for anything else. The children quieted down while Mom continued talking to Matthew's mother, reassuring him at the end that she was on her way. Calmer now, the children looked to one another and tried making amends.

"I'm sorry I broke your toy, Bonnie."

"I know, Mattie. Buzz is old. He's been on a LOT of adventures." Yes, this was all fine and good in Woody's eyes but he wanted more information on Buzz himself and so far, nothing was coming. Impatiently he continued to hide behind the plant until Dad appeared from the hall with the wounded toy in hand.

"Alright kiddo, I did the best I could. He's still drying so we'll have to keep this rubber band on him for a while. And now Bonnie Blair, you're going to have to be extra careful with him from here on." Woody's stomach or the fluff of where it would be, dropped at those words. They weren't quite as bad as 'just throw it away, it's broken' but those were notorious for being famous last words before a toy was shelved, forgotten, and became eventual yard sale fodder. Once a kid was told to be careful with you, you weren't fun anymore. You were a burden.

Dad was setting Buzz down on the kitchen counter while a thick, sturdy rubber band held his left arm tight to his side and Woody took this as his time to leave and return to toy mode before anyone noticed. He hated the idea of leaving Buzz there but he was safe and Woody would be far from it if they found him moving or not in his spot. He'd sneak down after bed time and-

The others were as they had been though it could have been mistaken as a trick of the light if it appeared that all their eyes were focused on him running back to his station. Slightly hunched over Trixie as she had been his dinosaur steed, hat still in Dolly's lap because she was a thriving witch, and head tilted at a 45 degree angle. When you're a toy, you had to be precise.

A car rolled to a slow stop by the curb just minutes after Woody had frozen and Matthew's mother exited, going to collect the boy. Bonnie and Mom walked out with him, she apologizing in person to her but Bonnie looking in far better spirits than she had minutes before. The parents chatted a moment while Bonnie gathered her toys. She was done playing for today but who could blame her? If any of them had the choice, they would have been done the moment Buzz broke.

Which, essentially, they were.

* * *

Woody hated sneaking out of Bonnie's room for several reasons. First: she slept with her door shut. What monster-fearing child would sleep with their door closed? Second: Mom and Dad slept with their door open as monster-fearing parents should. Third and most annoying: Mom was the lightest sleeper Woody had ever come across. He learned this fact their first night after Andy had gone; his small group had huddled in a circle talking about what the future may bring and she entered Bonnie's room (they just barely returning to position before the door swung open), and in her dozy daze she muttered out, “Now I could have sworn I heard someone talking...”

And that's why late night talks became late night whispers.

In order to get out of Bonnie's room in one piece and without being detected, Woody would climb out of her window, cross the side panel and down the ivy at the far side of the house, and from there it was as easy as running across the pebble path and climbing in through the mail slot. Easy perhaps but time consuming for a toy. He left at midnight on the dot and didn't see the vibrant green light of the microwave clock until it showed 12:45. Not his best time he'd made doing this trek but he was on the distracted side.

Another familiar green glow, softer than the microwave clock, came from the kitchen counter and soon he was at Buzz's side, gently shaking his friend's shoulder. He seemed asleep or deep in thought but after the first shake, he didn't stir. Only a minor tremor of fear entered Woody but it went away quickly enough when Buzz's eyes slowly opened. He did not meet the other's eyes when they opened.

“Howdy there, buddy. How you feelin'?” Light, friendly, trying hard not to show his worry and acted like nothing possibly could be worse than simply sitting on the kitchen counter top late at night. No broken arm. No worries for the future. Just... them. Like always.

Buzz said nothing but shifted his eyes in Woody's direction. Woody tried again.

“This stinks, huh? Well just think: by this time tomorrow, we'll be back in Bonnie's room and your arm will be fully dried. Dad used super-glue right? That'll do it for sure. I'll stick with you tonight and go before dawn so I can tell everyone you're alright-”

“I'm not 'alright'.” Buzz's voice was dejected, off from its usual pitch and riddled with a mix of concern and, to Woody's shock, fear. It shook Buzz to his core and Woody, sitting shoulder to shoulder beside him, could feel every rattle of the plastic. Buzz continued after swallowing the shakes, “My arm is here but I can't feel it. It's-it's dead weight. Is this how it felt with you? When your arm ripped at the seam?” Woody winced, remembering how he was in the exact situation as Buzz though still slightly different. His arm tore off at the seam and was fixed with thread and needle. Buzz had a different kind of joint, a different connection and Woody knew that.

“Felt... more like it was asleep. I knew it was there but it was floppy. Useless. When it came off completely,” Buzz's gaze grew sharp and Woody remembered that Buzz hadn't seen his arm come clean off him and live in someone's pocket for an evening, “I didn't feel anything. It was just gone.”

“It must be different. Your arm was reattached how it had been all your life. Mine... just doesn't feel right!” His right hand went to his left shoulder but hovered just above touching it, as if scared to do so, “It feels wrong, Woody. This isn't like when it happened at Sid's. I feel the connection that there's something here but I know once this rubber band comes off, I won't be able to move it. And Bonnie... Woody, what if she moves it wrong? What if it falls off and her dad doesn't want to fix it again?”

Panic was not something Buzz wore well and neither was it something Woody could easily hide on himself. To hear the near invincible Buzz Lightyear harbor such fears was terrifying because for as solid and sharp that Woody was, Buzz was that unwavering rock since he came to be a toy. He worried, he cared, and had emotions just like the others but anything regarding himself was hidden as that wasn't his nature. Others first, then him if there was time. Woody was the same way which was why neither could quite make this moment feel right.

Gently and ever so slowly, Woody put his arm behind Buzz's back but stopped short of his left shoulder. If Buzz couldn't touch it himself, there was no way he would allow the cowboy to touch it, either. And, if he could be honest, he was scared too on moving it roughly and causing further damage.

“You know Bonnie is careful with her toys. She's never hurt any of us, even on accident. She doesn't even like pulling my pull string too far; scared she'll break it! She's going to treat you like fine china, Buzz. She'll be so careful with you.”

“Why do you say that like it's a good thing?” He had a point. “I'm a toy. How can I be fun for her if she's too scared to play with me?” Woody found the pain in that statement: Buzz sounded as if he feared her rejection more than his own limb loss and Woody understood it all too well. The same fear lived in him about Andy when his own fate came so dangerously close to being finalized on the shelf.

Shifting, Woody got comfortable. He wasn't one to leave a toy when they were feeling anything short of right and Buzz, more than anything, was far from it and that was one toy he wouldn't abandon at such a time.

“Y'know Buzz, and I know you may not believe this, but I didn't like you very much when we first met.” This elicited a short but appropriate laugh from Buzz.

“Really? Never would have guessed it, sheriff.” That's what he wanted to hear. Woody squeezed his arm tighter around him.

“Oh, it's completely true! You drove me bonkers. I mean, occasionally still do but that's neither here nor there.” Another laugh and it made Woody feel great. He was greedy in thinking he needed it as much as Buzz but he had been scared enough for one lifetime; why not end the night on some higher notes? “My point is this: things have changed a lot since then and no matter what happens, you're stuck with me, pal. Don't go thinking you can have something silly like your l'il ol' arm popping off to get you fired from our family. Doesn't work that easily. Nope, you're stuck. Sorry.” Woody, for dramatics, leaned back against the kitchen wall after tilting his hat over his eyes as if he could care less about the rules and regulations of being his friend. Hiding behind his hat, he was worried that there was no sound of laughter or no friendly argument to follow but a creak of plastic and a pressure against his shoulder was an even better affirmative that everything was ok.

“Thanks, Woody. Guess a space ranger wouldn't act like that, would they?”

“Well, no. But you're Buzz: a toy, a spaceman, and a bit dense when you want to be. So you acted just how you were supposed to.”

* * *

It took Bonnie two days after Buzz had been reintroduced to her room before she would pick him up. Dad had said the glue on his arm was dry now but to be careful with him when she did feel like playing with him. For two long, drawn out days he sat alone on her desk but on the start of the third day, it was time for Space Jockey Buzz to ride his Space Stallion Buttercup across the galaxy to find his best friend Woody trapped on the dreaded dinosaur planet ruled by none other than the heinous, equally dreadful Professor Marvin Von Totoro! There may have been a princess there too: the fabled princess Jessie and her faithful steed Bullseye but that had to be a myth! Hadn't it?

Woody watched the scenario with his plastered smile and it warmed him to see her take to Buzz like nothing had happened; he sat upon her pillow with Trixie and Rex gnashing their fangs at him but he couldn't have felt gladder for their kidnap attempt. It meant Bonnie saw Buzz as a fun toy and he wasn't damaged goods.

“Oh no! Space Jockey Buzz can't get to his bestest friend in the WHOLE universe, Woody! The dinosaurs know too much; they can bite AND put you under hypno... hypno... a spell! What will he do now?” Bonnie cried out, holding Buzz and Buttercup to her chest. _Oh no! Whatever will I do?_ Woody couldn't help thinking to himself, fake distress latent with the thought. In an epic twist, Buzz dismounted Buttercup and gave a tearful farewell to his faithful space horse.

“Don't worry, Buttercup! We'll see each other again! For now... I have to fly on my own! I'll bring Woody back and we'll all have ice cream after!” Bonnie said with her deepest, most un-Buzz-like voice possible.

What happened next was fast but Woody saw it in slow motion.

She pressed the button to extend Buzz's wings and brought up his right arm to point in front of him and did the same to his left so they matched. A typical Superman pose for optimal flying; a logical stance for any space hero.

His left arm snapped from the motion and to add to that noise, all of the phrases and sounds Buzz's voice-box could make began sounding all at once. All lights were flashing and blinking rapidly along with the noise and it made Bonnie drop Buzz on the floor, shocked from the reaction.

“Uh-oh... Dad! Dad his arm fell off again! What do I do?” She was calmer this time than when Matthew had broken it originally but she still panicked and ran out of the room to find her father.

Woody was first to move; first to run across the bed to access the situation. He couldn't help recounting another time, long before Bonnie and almost before Andy, when he had heard another toy release all their sounds all at once. Some darker, more morose toys would call it the 'death cry' as it was often the last thing a toy would sound before never moving again but those were silly ideas to make rugged toys sound scarier than they were. It didn't make Woody's frantic run a casual stroll and it certainly didn't make his masterful jump off the bed a mere skip down a stair.

“Buzz! Oh no, no, no, no, no. Stop using all your sounds! You're going to use your batteries up. You're ok. You're ok.” He was saying these things before he even saw the horror on Buzz's face. He sat up, scooting away from everyone closer who was trying to approach him to help, Woody included.

“Yikes, Buzz!” Hamm started out, waddling toward him but at a slow pace, “You're scaring the daylights out of the baby toys! Knock it off, will ya?”

“Yeah! So you lost an arm! It happens, see?” Mr. Potato Head said, plucking one arm off his body with the other. Woody walked up beside him and smacked the back of his head hard, causing the rest of his face to fall on the floor and for the missus to utter how he kind of deserved that.

Perhaps the other toys didn't know the severity of the break and thought that it had only popped free from the socket but Woody knew. This was Buzz's fear from last night and now it was painted all over his face and aimed directly at Woody. His expression screamed: This isn't supposed to happen. You said it wouldn't.

It broke Woody's heart to think he had let him down.

“C'mon y'all, stop crowdin' him! I'd like'ta see how you'd be actin' if you were in his shoes!” Jessie took charge momentarily as Woody tried to bring Buzz to his feet, even briefly before Bonnie returned, but Buzz would not move. He huddled in on himself; right hand covering the gaping hole of his left shoulder as if it were something to be ashamed of. Jessie continued, “Buzz? Let us help ya. We don't have much time 'fore Bonnie comes back. We can help.”

“Yeah,” Woody squeaked. Buzz's head shot up and his eyes, betrayed, watched Woody try to save face, “we can try the glue again if Dad doesn't or-”

Before Woody could finish his sentence, rapid footsteps were approaching so it was back to their stations but Buzz would not return. It took both Woody and Jessie to pull him back to roughly the same spot he had been and to force him to lay as he had but by that point, he had retreated so far into himself that he looked fresh from the factory; not even obscured by his packaging or only now awake from the store. Vacant. Empty.

Woody sat smiling on the pillow but the inside of him was screaming. How could he make Buzz feel like everything would be ok and dismiss him when he was so legitimately and rightfully worried?

“Daddy I PROMISE I played so nice with him! But he was about to fly to the dinosaurs and his arm came off again... Did you use bad glue?” Bonnie was pulling Dad into the room with her and she quickly scooped up Buzz and his severed arm to show her father. He made a single tsk sound with his tongue and looked at both the arm and the socket it belonged to.

“Well honey, I did use my best glue. But this might just be a little more than I can fix. I know you were careful with him but... yep, see there?” He lowered Buzz again and angled him so Bonnie could see the inside of his socket. Woody briefly felt a second hand embarrassment for Buzz; this was like looking at your insides and had to be humiliating for him. “See that little bump? That's supposed to connect to his arm so it can move all around. But when Mattie broke it accidentally,” He emphasized the word, “that part broke too. I could keep gluing it and gluing it but eventually his arm is just going to stay in one spot. You won't be able to move it anymore. Is that ok? I could put a screw through the arm and connect it but it wouldn't be able to move around like his other arm.”

He lifted Buzz's right arm to show her the range of motion it still had and handed her his other arm which she gently held in her tiny hands. She seemed to be at war with herself on what to do, vocalizing that he would have a hard time flying with his arm down all the time. That it couldn't feel good to have his arm stuck like that all day and night! It hadn't occurred to her yet that he was a toy and... well, who cared what his arm did if it was broken?

“It won't hurt, will it?” She whispered, offering Dad the arm. He offered a gentle smile and shook his head.

“Of course not. C'mon. We can do it right now. I think I have just the right tools for this, too...” He took her hand and again they left, Buzz accompanying them this time to be fixed once more. The door shut with a click and left the toys to gossip and speculate as was what toys tended to do in moments like this.

“I fear our friend may be departing soon. Alas, 'tis easier to mend tears with a new toy than it is fix an old one.” Pricklepants said this with an elaborate gesture of his paw, pretending to be in the spotlight at the moment. Woody shot a look to him but quickly turned to Mr. Potato Head who had replaced his eyes and mouth back on his face.

“Yep, knew it the second it happened. Buzz'll be going to Mars before much longer; or maybe the Goodwill.”

Then Hamm added, “Goodwill if he's lucky! They don't take broken toys either. Might end up in the ol' trash pile there, too.”

“What kind of place would be called Goodwill if they didn't take broken toys? It sounds inhumane!” Rex cried out.

Woody's head spun on his shoulders at all of these horrible, horrible naysayers until he finally found a focal point; the ever quiet Slink who knew better than to say such things about their friends but his silence infuriated Woody as well.

“Why are you guys like this?! The second something goes marginally wrong, you act like the worst bunch of toys ever! Buzz isn't broken! He's not going to end up in the Goodwill and he's certainly NOT going in the trash! I won't allow it! No, Dad's going to fix him again with a SCREW this time, you all heard it, and he'll be back with us at playtime and you all are going to feel really bad for talkin' like this!”

Finally, Slink spoke. “Aw Woody... we know Dad's gonna try his best. It ain't about that. We jus' are startin' to feel the age of it. Of us. You'n Buzz were always played with the most an' still are. We're toys. We break. It's gonna happen an'... we're done when we're done.”

“Buzz. Is. NOT. Done!” Woody seethed through clenched teeth, pointing at Slink and ending the conversation. No one dared talk to him after that and he was glad for it; he could control his temper more often than not but this wasn't something he took lightly. He walked away from them all, climbing up the side of Bonnie's bed frame and returning to his post on her pillow. Jessie acted like she wanted to follow him but Bullseye bit her chaps and held tight; Woody needed to be alone and her good intentions weren't always taken well. Later... she'd talk to him later when he had time to calm down and regroup.

Bonnie ran back inside almost impossibly quiet with Buzz in her hands. His right hand was raised above his head like it had been but his left was stuck at his side; a new silver circle of metal showing on the circle of his shoulder. The screw would keep his arm intact: a nice sturdy metal screw would keep his arm from coming loose again even if it did look a little strange. She sat Buzz beside Woody on her pillow and looked at the two of them.

“Buzz is back with his best friend Woody! But first, the Queen Bonnie has to eat lunch. When we come back, we'll play... we'll play outside! Did you know there's a haunted tree outside and we're going to have to solve it?” Bonnie whispered to the two of them as if it were a secret.

“Bonnie! Lunch!” Mom called from the kitchen and left the two of them on the pillow. Woody had stayed in position a second longer than Buzz; the spaceman began trying to force his arm to move and the sound of creaking plastic against the screw startled Woody to move and lean in front of Buzz.

“ Hey, hey stop trying to move it too much. You just got fixed!”

“This isn't fixed!” Buzz roared, pushing Woody back and trying to move into a position where he could get at his arm, make it move as it used to. The screw was tight and all he seemed to be able to do of his left arm was wiggle his fingers and raise his forearm at the elbow; barely enough for a handshake. There was no rotation of his shoulder, no way for him to lift his arm or move it from his side. Woody watched him in silence as he tried his best but all that resulted from it was the sound of stress against plastic and Buzz plopping down in front of him, panting from the effort.

“Woody... this isn't fixed. This is a band-aid at most. What am I going to do?” By now the other toys had reached the top of the bed but kept their distance around the edge just in case Buzz reacted poorly again. Woody didn't know to say because he didn't know what Buzz could do. He was too scared now to offer advice when he thought things would be better. If he did offer anything to Buzz and it turned out to be wrong yet again, he didn't think he could stand the same look he had been given when Buzz broke again.

That was too much the first time; a second time would kill him.


	2. Decision

A week in the toy chest gave Woody a lot of time to think but he thought mostly on how it had gotten to this point in the first place. Having Buzz's glow in the dark suit helped him through the rougher patches of being boxed but that only reminded him that there was still a problem and he'd have to come to a solution sooner or later.

Their week in the chest began when Bonnie's weekend began and she was ready to go enjoy the warm spring day outside. Everyone was ready to go; all collected in a pillow case for easy transport. Buzz and Woody were last to be picked up, as per usual, for she carried them in her hands to go on such adventures yet when she picked them up, she hesitated on the spot and frowned.

“Maybe you should stay home today, Buzz. You've got your owie still...” The two toys had an arm tangled with one another and as Bonnie tried to separate them, Woody used a bit more strength than he should while facing his owner and ensured they wouldn't come apart so easily. Bonnie didn't see this as anything unusual; just saying that Woody would never leave his best friend Buzz and that the two could stay in today and relax. She sat them in the toy chest and gave them a book to read but didn't think much on keeping the lid open for light since that came down after the book was settled between them.

Woody rubbed his face after she had gone, removing his hat from the top of his head to sit on his lap so it wouldn't get bent in the cramped space. They'd get out of the box when it was safe to do so; stretch their legs and move around in the freedom of the empty room.

“I'm sorry,” Buzz whispered, stopping Woody from moving further as it was such a quiet phrase to come from him, it sounded almost like fabric shuffling, “I'm sorry you got put in here with me.”

“Actually I was trying to have Bonnie take the both of us. Whoops. Backfired.” Woody sighed, fanning his hat because his hands needed to be doing something. He always fidgeted in times like this and he hated how predictable that was. Buzz's left hand squeezed and opened, he still trying to get used to what his limitations were now. For several long moments, they sat in silence with only the sounds of other toys moving about but none tried to interact with them. They were boxed toys; almost as bad as being shelved or tossed in the closet or attic.

“You wanna get out of here?” Woody said, nudging Buzz with his elbow. Another moment followed with no response then a defeated sigh from Buzz.

“Sure,” he began while standing, needing Woody's help since he couldn't use his other arm for leverage, “what else are we going to be doing today?”

That same pattern happened the entire week; Bonnie would prepare for playtime but Buzz was still with his owie and Woody kept good company in her eyes so the two remained in the toy box until she was long gone. On the seventh day of popping out of the box when she had gone, Woody found his own strength for keeping the facade of happiness: that this would all go away by the next day and Bonnie would find them to be the best toys ever, waning and even he couldn't think of a reason to get out of the box. Around the time when he normally would chirp in as cheerful voice as he could that the coast was clear and they could exit the box, he could only stare down at his boots with Buzz at his side.

“Hey, Buzz?” Woody asked quietly. Buzz hadn't said much in the past week and it was beginning wear on him. A soft, short hum came from him and it made Woody continue his thought, “Do you ever wonder what it would have been like if we had been put in Andy's attic? If we would have had that chance?” These were just the ramblings of a stuck toy, of one who had all the time in the world to think lately and couldn't help but delve on old, impossible topics. That had always been a blessing between the two of them; rambling and going on and on about certain things never really bothered the other save for when Buzz first awoke on Andy's bed all those years ago.

“Once in a while, I do. Sometimes I think... that it was wrong of him to give us to Bonnie. Is that selfish of me? You know I loved Andy, just like you do, but now... it must be the break talking, but I feel so angry with him. I feel abandoned.” It was rare when Buzz would bear himself like this but it wasn't something Woody hadn't heard before though it didn't make it any less important or precious to him. Buzz wasn't always a ditz like the other toys thought but then again, what was complexity when it came to being a toy?

“When he caused my arm to rip, I thought the same thing,” Buzz shot him a look but Woody didn't acknowledge it, “briefly. Very brief. I thought to myself, 'Andy! This is me! How could you do this to me?' But I'm a lot older than you so when the offer to stay safe and protected for the rest of my life came around, it sounded really appealing. I wasn't thinking straight, either.” There was more to say but Buzz cut him off.

“I'm not a new toy anymore, either, you know. If you would have asked me to do something like go live in a case for forever back then, I would have called you crazy. But now,” he tried moving his left arm for the sake but it remained latched to his side, “now, I'm not so sure.” He took a deep breath and the next words out of his mouth were understandable but not expected, “I know Bonnie had no intention of hurting me and I know she would never want it to happen again but, deep down inside of me, I'm scared she will. I'm scared she will break my arm again or tug on yours and it'll rip. We're both compromised.”

Woody winced. Saying it like that hurt but it hurt more knowing it was true. A stitch job Andy did almost ten years ago wouldn't hold forever and who's to say the screw in Buzz's arm would do the trick, either? Bonnie may have been a careful girl but what of her friends as they had learned? What about when she gets older? It was one thing to think of his own rips and tears but when Buzz was involved in it and manifested his own worries, Woody began thinking of it differently. What if Buzz was broken further or thrown away? He had overheard Dad mention once how newer goods weren't built to last; what if that meant toys too? It was all about replacing things now, not fixing.

Were they lucky this time around to have been fixed but what of the next time?

“I think... now, after what's happened, I'd rather be in Andy's attic if I were given the choice.” Buzz whispered honestly.

A thump outside the box brought them from their talk and they went stone still as Bonnie returned when the weather went bad during her play. A rainstorm wasn't anything to scare the little girl but the thunder that accompanied it did so in she had come, ready to resume her play inside. Their doubts were briefly relieved when she opened the box but instead of pulling them out to play, she dumped a few of the others in with them, to be specific: the three peas in their pod and the three aliens. She said nothing to the two in the box; only leaving them some roommates to suffer in silence with.

Though Woody remained still, his eyes looked toward Buzz who wasn't trying to hide the relief mixed with disappointment on his face. Bonnie was just beyond a wooden divider and his face wasn't factory ready; it was as honest as Woody had ever seen it.

That's when Woody decided that maybe their musings had some clarity to it.

* * *

“I'm sorry... I know it's late but I appreciate you meeting me here tonight, Jessie. It's important,” Woody said, helping the cowgirl onto the window ledge as she was still groggy and her footing just wasn't on par this late at night. Hearing a word of thanks livened her up a bit with a toothy smile growing but a yawn escaping none-the-less. The thunder and lightning hadn't stopped over the span of twenty four hours which caused Bonnie to sleep in her parent's room and for the toys to have a bit more freedom at night than usual. Of course, voices were kept to no higher than a whisper but it felt good to talk.

Buttercup and Bullseye had been the chosen toys to accompany Bonnie that night; she had watched the latter half of Black Beauty and now she was 100% certain she would have a horse by her next birthday. It left Jessie alone on Bonnie's pillow but gave Woody the perfect opportunity to pull her aside, talk to her one on one about the plan that had been formulating in his head. He wanted her thoughts, her opinions, and the very realistic chance that she would scream at him and talk him down from this stupid idea with some common sense. Still, didn't hurt to try.

“Whas'up, sheriff? Must be important if yer telling me this late at night! What is it? A new plan to fix Buzz's arm? Ya know I was thinkin' that what we could do is see-”

“No, no, Jess, nothing like that but... it's very important. I trust you more than any toy here with this.”

“More than Buzz? And even Slinky?” She looked scandalized but Woody gave a half-hearted smile.

“Well... this time, no. This would be hard for Slinky and as for Buzz, well, it involves him.” She was certainly more awake now and sat cross legged in front of him, curious. A brow was raised when she asked, “Is... this somethin' I should be privy to? It ain't... personal stuff is it?”

It was Woody's turn to raise a brow but didn't delve deeper. Now wasn't the time to be inquisitive on where her mind was going but it did seem like the opportunity to drop his idea, possibly lessen the blow of it's impact.

“No, but it's' really important. I'm thinking... well, I'm thinking of taking Buzz and leaving. Just me and him.” He could watch as each phase of emotion passed over her face: confusion was first by her eyes going crystal clear, shock with the way her shoulders hunched up into a defensive stance, and finally upset as she scampered close to him to grip his shoulders. A weak laugh escaped her mouth but the tight, desperate hold on him remained. Shame came over him as the thought she could rip his arm off began to creep inside. Not on purpose... but it was never on purpose, was it?

“Ha... now Woody, this ain't the time for makin' such jokes. I know you'n Buzz had it rough for a bit but is leavin' really crossin' your head right now? Where would you go? And why only Buzz? What about Bonnie 'n me 'n the rest of us? It's a'right to just... go?” Her breathing was beginning to pick up so Woody changed places with her; when she released his shoulders to wrap herself protectively, he pulled her into a close hug.

“I know how this sounds. It's selfish and cowardly of me, isn't it? But I've seen how Buzz having his arm break has bothered him. Honestly, it's been bothering me too. None of us know how much longer we've got before Bonnie loses interest in us and if anyone's going to start boring her first, it'll be me and Buzz. We're...” he screwed his mouth, hating to play this card but feeling it necessary to get his point across, “we're boy toys. One day she might not want anything to do with us.”

“Or she might not! Bonnie loves her toys! Y'know that!”

“Oh yeah?” He held her at arm's length now, feeling betrayed, “Then how come me and Buzz have been stuck in the toy box the past week? How come she's been leaving us alone in there when all she has to do is play a little nicer with us?” Jessie had no response to this. Tilting her head to the side, she reached up and tugged at her braid. Woody released her and held his hands to keep them occupied while he spoke, tone shifting to a calm but serious one.

“I'm... not asking your permission on this one, Jess. I'm asking you to be the strong one if he and I go. I still need to talk to him and-” She shot him down, giving him a befuddled look and as well as his shoulders a good shove.

“Y'mean to tell me yer getting all worked up and you haven' even talked to him about it yet? How d'ya know if he'll want to go anyways? What if he wants to stay here?” That was a valid point he hadn't fully considered nor think she would mention but now that it was out, it worried him. What he wasn't expecting was for Buzz to appear from behind the both of them, he having watched most of their interaction in a quiet, eaves dropping way.

“I don't like being volunteered with things without my permission but Woody is right,” Both turned to him, lips tight and waiting for more, “I know I'm a toy but I don't feel like being played with anymore.” He was absently rubbing his left arm as he spoke. They waited for him to continue but nothing else came, he being lost in what he had admitted and feeling embarrassed and ashamed for doing so.

“Neither do I,” Woody admitted at long last.

Jessie shot looks at both of them, completely in disbelief over what she had heard, but left with defeat on her face and shoulders as it was quite apparent that they were not joking. As she climbed down the side of the desk, Woody leaned over the window's ledge, wondering if he should say anything further on the subject. Would she tell everyone that they were planning on leaving in order to stop them? Something, perhaps the way she walked, said that she would say nothing unless they did.

He had wanted her to know his plan because when they were gone, she would fall into place as their 'leader'. Bonnie simply adored Jessie and had ever since their arrival so if there were to be a toy to take over he and Buzz's places, Jessie was the obvious choice. That's what he had really wanted to talk to her about instead of how it had gone and how it had ended on such a sour, selfish note. That didn't stop him from calling out to her; to make an attempt at salvaging something of the situation but she was already scaling down the desk.

Woody felt Buzz's hand touch his elbow in an attempt to comfort him, to let him know he was still there.

“Were you being serious, about us leaving? That wasn't something said out of anger?” Buzz questioned, tugging lightly on Woody's elbow.

“No, I meant it. And I meant to tell you in a better way than that, too. Nothing's going right tonight,” He groaned, wrapping his hands around the back of his neck. He was hardly hoping for a fond farewell or some sort of elaborate going away party but the decency of understanding or the attempt of trying felt like the minimum in this case. Couldn't he have hope that his friends, after so many years, would try to see his feelings? It didn't take him long to realize he hadn't considered Buzz's at all when arguing with Jessie; instantly assuming that Buzz would agree and go along with his plan.

Now, he felt even worse.

“Jeeze, this isn't like me at all. Aren't I always the one with a plan? I feel like I'm hardly thinking.” He was feeling scatterbrained; desperate for a solution to such a small problem but since it involved Buzz, it felt much larger. So much did he want to protect him that he didn't think past his initial idea, on how impractical it was or how Buzz would take to it. Everything hedged on Buzz's reaction and now Woody feared it would be cold after how Jessie responded. The two were awful close so it wouldn't be beyond reason for Buzz to think the whole thing was ridiculous if had similar ideas to her.

“You have a plan but you're scared to voice it. Leaving is one thing but there's more to it than that, isn't there?” Of course Buzz would know. Well... no time like the present to embarrass himself and announce his idea to the only toy who would listen.

“I want to go home. I want to go back to Andy's home. I don't care if I spend the rest of my life in his attic and not be played with again but that's where I want to be. Being given to Bonnie sounded like a good idea at first but now I'm realizing more and more that it was a mistake. I want to go home to the attic... and I want you to come with me,” Everything was spilling out now and boy, did Woody feel better for it. His mind cleared, he could feel the flow of his idea coming out better, and even Buzz's face wasn't nearly as startled or flabbergasted as he anticipated, “You and I would leave and make our way to Andy's house! It's not too far; we'd be fine traveling at night! We'd find a way inside and go right up to the attic. It'll be just like before we were given to Bonnie! We could stay there safely and not worry about being broken or-”

“Wait,” Buzz's hand rose to calm the excited onslaught, “are you sure this is what you want to do? By ourselves?” Buzz wasn't saying they couldn't accomplish such a task but rather if it was one they wanted to do alone without their friends because that's what it would mean, in the end. That they would leave and potentially not see these friends again. As much as it hurt Woody to think of it, it had already crossed his mind and still he wanted to proceed.

“Yeah... by ourselves. You were right when you said we're the most compromised and I agree with you. When was the last time I agreed with you? That's how serious this is and how much I think we should do this. We could make it back to Andy's house in a night and be completely settled by the next day! Sure the attic might need some TLC but we'll have each other! We can do it, right buddy?” This... was a different side to Woody that Buzz hadn't seen. This wasn't just excitement at an idea but a desperation that he didn't know was possible in such a confident toy. He was always the one to voice the positives; to let everyone know that things would turn out just right. His hands had at some point reached for Buzz's and though his left hand could only go so far, that didn't stop Woody from squeezing it as he went on about his plan.

It was hard not to get caught up in it when it was something Woody wanted so badly. The more Buzz thought on it, the more he realized that it wasn't such a bad idea. In fact, it was exactly what he wanted and feared that no one else would understand but there stood Woody, hands still holding his, shaking with such internal energy that it resonated through Buzz's limbs. Squeezing back just as hard, Buzz gave a single nod.

“Alright. Just you and me. Just like old times,” a corner of his mouth lifted, offering a half smile that Woody needed to calm his nerves. “Let's go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a tad shorter than the first but chapter three will be a bit of a whopper. I had to sit down and write out each chapter and what its contents would be and so far, I'm up to chapter 14 for my ideas. I'm predicting this to be a 16-18 chapter story but we shall see. This chapter felt a bit disjointed because I had a lot going on when I was writing it but I think now that I have a clearer idea of what I want to to be, it'll come much easier.  
> On another note, my birthday is tomorrow (the 24th) so this is sort of a birthday present I can share with everyone! I hope you enjoy it :)


	3. Departure

Nothing felt out of the ordinary once morning came: the Sunday routine falling into place with Bonnie waking early to play before Mom plated up her special Mickey Mouse pancakes. Sometimes they were pink or even blue! That's why they were the special pancakes and why they only came on Sundays. Jessie was the star of her morning play because Black Beauty was still on her mind and now Jessie was proud owner of the biggest, bestest horse ranch ever... that was haunted... by porcupine ghosts and dinosaur banshees. Things weren't looking good for Jessie's ranch when suddenly-

“Kiddo, go wash your hands. Mom's got the first pancake for you.” Dad said, peeking his head into her room. All ghosts and horse ranches were forgotten because nothing, absolutely nothing, could hold a candle to Mom's Mickey Mouse pancakes.

The toys moved from stasis and Jessie, feeling guilt from the night before, slowly approached the toy box while wringing the end of her braid with Bullseye at her heel. She hadn't wanted things to go so awry but the whole idea had really stunned her stupid and she was never one to handle situations like that with grace or elegance. Her style was more guns blazing, panic now and reconcile later if needed. For a moment she faltered and stopped her approach of the box but Bullseye knew she needed this and nudged her hip, forcing her along.

“Woody? Buzz? Y'all can come out now. Bonnie's having breakfast. C'mon out and get some fresh air 'n sunshine.” The storm that had been raging the past few days had subsided to a nice sunny morning and Jessie felt the need to announce that; not at all feeling chicken on actually conversing with the two on the topic at hand. After a few moments of no response, Jessie reached up and knocked on the outside of the box.

“What's goin' on? The crybabies hiding today?” Mr. Potato Head, followed by a select few of the others, gathered around Jessie as they too were interested in seeing the two come out of their hiding place. Even after knocking, no movement or sound came from inside the box.

“Oh let them be, everyone. Maybe they don't want to come out yet. Let's leave them alone...” Trixie, of all the toys, was the one to say opposite. Jessie couldn't help but give her a side-eye glance and worry when the triceratops acted nervous and almost guilty after speaking up.

"Somethin's not right here," Jessie said as she looked between the box and Trixie's shying gaze. Without hesitation now, she scaled the side of the box and flung open the wicker top, revealing nothing inside but the usual toys and blankets... but no Buzz or Woody. The triplets were still within the box but the middle alien held a folded piece of paper in their hand, raising it up to Jessie like it was some relic, some holy artifact she had been deemed worthy of.

"The space ranger and Earthly authority departed. We were instructed to give unto the red-headed Earthly authority!" Jessie took the folded piece of paper, gave a confused thank you to the three who had felt so important for being entrusted such a task, and took to opening the paper with a feeling of dread deep inside. She was outside once more when the paper was fully undone and the toys below still seated on the ground had their eyes on her.

Scribbled with a green crayon on what appeared to be Bonnie's alphabet practice from Sunnyside or at least the lower back half of it. She glanced it once over for herself then spoke it aloud for all the toys to hear.

“ _Howdy everyone. If Jessie's reading this, that means we're gone and I can bet you're all pretty mad at us for leaving,_ “ Jessie read, trying to keep her accent contained while speaking, “ _but please understand that this wasn't an easy choice. We wanted to tell you all but we knew if we did, you'd try make us stay.”_ Jessie stopped, catching herself nodding as that's what had happened the night before. Her lanky legs crossed under her as she continued reading the short but important final lines of the letter. “ _We did this to feel safe. We will miss you all and you have all been the best toys anyone could ask for. This is not goodbye.”_

One second of silence. Then two. By the third, the uproar began that Jessie was predicting.

“What do they mean they're gone?! And feel safe? Isn't this place the safest in the world?” Rex cried out, stomping around from toy to toy in an attempt to make his point.

“They're just being old, whiny toys. Just wait; we'll see them back before you know it. When have Buzz and Woody EVER been gone for good?” Hamm offered, voice sounding sure but the way he waddled away from the circle could show otherwise. His steps weren't as confident as they normally were and to a toy who knew him, they'd be able to say that he seemed down.

Jessie, however, was still trying to process what she read. What lead up to her going into the toy box and getting the letter. Why Trixie looked so-

Trixie.

“Say, Trixie,” Jessie said in a calm voice that stopped the toys still. She was always speaking with passion and volume and this... this level of calm was unlike her, “didja know anythin' 'bout this before we did? Didja happen t'see somethin'?” Getting to her feet, the cowgirl made her way to Trixie who nervously tapped the tips of her claws together while looking in every direction, except for directly in front of her.

“Well-well maybe I might have heard something but probably not, you know triceratops don't have the best ears and so what if I was already up late chatting online...” She was looking to Dolly for guidance. The doll shook her head and waved her hands to keep her far out of this conversation. Jessie gave a slow nod.

“Uh-huh...”

“But you know, MAYBE I saw some movement, hid behind the computer tower, and maybe saw two toys...”

“Yes?” Jessie was now nose to horn with the dinosaur and Trixie finally met her gaze.

“And-maybe-I-saw-them-leave-out-the-mail-slot-with-a-sock-full-of-stuff-that-looked-like-they-weren't-coming-back-around-three-in-the-morning...” She blurted this out in one breathe while falling backwards. A triceratops on their back is a sad sight, almost as sad as a turtle on theirs, but Jessie loomed over her with her fists balled and the look of hurt and betrayal on her face.

“An' you just let them waltz on outta here?! Do you know where they're gonna go?! Y'mean to tell me they left last night in the middle'a a rainstorm?! Why didn'tcha stop them?!” Her emotions were getting the better of her and Trixie was trying to regain her sitting position but Jessie wasn't giving her space to. The poor dinosaur continued to waddle on her back with her short legs flailing.

“You can't stop a toy once their mind is made up; that they don't want to play anymore,” said a morose voice from near the door frame. Chuckles had been frequenting Bonnie's room more and more as of late and though he had seemed happier, it was hard to tell sometimes, “I saw them leave. They're not coming back.”

Those who bothered to listen looked down, unsure how to feel. Jessie in particular was torn between upset, rage, or a deep down understanding that maybe... just maybe, it all made sense. Woody said it wasn't goodbye and it wasn't impossible for them to make themselves known after being apart but there was a finality floating in the air that said this time...

Maybe they shouldn't expect them to come back.

* * *

_It's just around the block,_ Woody kept telling himself, _just around the block..._

The rain was relentless but the thunder and lightning seemed to be slowing to a near stop but the occasional boom or bright flash did stop them in their tracks. It was the best time to travel for there were no cars, people, or critters out in such weather. For a toy made of cloth and stuffing, it was treacherous going for he soaked through and each step he made felt squishy and damp. Buzz was lucky, being made of plastic and all. The rain rolled off of him and his helmet with ease.

Not only was the rain soaking Woody to his core, he was also dragging the sock behind him and trying navigate them in the dark behind bushes and shrubs to stay hidden. _I remember this route, I know I do. I did this once, I can do it again..._ Woody wouldn't stop repeating this in his mind because if he believed it, it would happen. That's how it always worked for Woody. Now would be no different.

“Woody, why don't you let me carry that?” Buzz asked from behind him but Woody hardly heard him over the pounding rain; it wasn't at all because he didn't want Buzz to have a burden on him further. The sock was full of random things, important things, but it was heavy for a toy and it drug on the ground behind him. A sturdy sock it was but still heavy.

“It shouldn't be much longer now.”

“Woody.”

“Minutes, I bet! I can't wait to dry off. I wonder if the attic is warm-” Woody fell backward as the sock was tugged off his shoulders but he saved himself from landing against the sidewalk just in time. Partly bent over backward, Woody saw Buzz take the sock and fling it over his good shoulder, offering a little smirk at his toppled friend.

“I'm not completely useless yet, you know.” It was the smile that sold it even if it worried Woody. He was using his one good arm to lug something around... shouldn't Woody, who still had use of all his limbs, be taking on the brunt?

No, because that wasn't how either of them worked. Both had always pulled their own weight in one way or another so why should now, current circumstances aside, be any different?

“I know,” Woody said, righting himself and offering his own smile in spite of the heavy downpour, “if anyone knows, it's me.”

Elm street arrived first, followed quickly by the brick homestead of 234. Seeing it again took the metaphorical wind out of Woody but brought on its own new challenges. Even as Buster grew older and needed to be let outside more frequently, Mom never considered a doggie door or anything of the like; making the house firmly locked. Buzz noticed too, shifting the sock and tilting his head in several directions to get a better look from behind the shrubs.

“I don't remember home being so... impenetrable. Any ideas here, sheriff? We could climb the water drain up to the gutters and test to see if any of the second floor windows are open?” Buzz followed the motion with his chin. Woody shook his head, canceling the idea.

“Not with your arm being how it is, and we'd risk making a lot of noise. I think the best option would be- oh, shh! Look!” As if on cue, the light above the front door came on and it, too, squeaked open. There stood Mom, clad in a fluffy bathrobe and her kitty cat slippers from two... maybe three Christmases ago, with her phone to her ear and Buster wobbling out the door. He looked older, whiter around the muzzle then last time. _Time moves differently for dogs, too,_ Woody mused in his head.

“Go ahead, Buster. Don't take too long, it's pouring! What? Oh no, honey,” she said, spinning just slightly to look back inside the house, “just letting Buster outside. Now, are you going to answer me about coming home for Christmas?” Her conversation was interesting, incredibly so for Woody because he knew that had to be Andy just on the other side of that device, but it had to be ignored for now. They were drenched and just the sight of the home's interior was so inviting.

“I've got an idea,” Woody tugged the sock away from Buzz and took his arm, pointing it in the area where Buster's nose would be. With the rain and Mom being distracted by the phone call, the beeping sound that came from Buzz's laser was missed but Buster, even with his failing eyesight, was able to see the red flash on and off the grass. Woody moved Buzz's arm so the laser would move as well, he making it dart away and Buster paying attention to it as intended. The old dog barked and did his best to chase after it and right into the bushes, just as Woody expected. Good old reliable Buster, always did what was expected of him.

“No, no! Buster's stuck in the bushes is all and it's raining. Gotta go rescue him,” Mom muttered, emerging from the house with her raincoat replacing her robe and a pair of clunky rain boots replaced her kitty slippers. The phone was still pressed to her ear as she made her way to Buster.

“We're only going to have one shot at this...” Woody waited until her back was completely turned, he now shouldering the sock instead of Buzz, and once it was, he grabbed Buzz's hand and they ran as fast as their legs could take them. Between the rain, the darkness, and Mom's distraction, the attempt went without a hitch and once more, they were in the hazy familiarity of the Davis home.

No matter how warm or familiar, they had no time to enjoy it. There was still Molly to take into account and Mom with Buster in tow would be back inside at any moment. They had to hide and hide well. Molly was nowhere to be seen but Mom was approaching so with one last minute decision, Woody jerked Buzz in another direction. A bee-line right to the shelved alcove under the stairs where they kept the spare pillows and blankets for guests. A good place for the night if nothing else.

Nestled between a particularly warm comforter quilt and a set of pillows, Buzz and Woody took a deep breath and relaxed flat against the pillow top, side by side. Their hands were still latched tight and neither had the energy to release them.

They remained silent until the lights in the lower half of the house were out and the sounds indicated sleep, the two released the unneeded breath and laughed quietly together.

“Buzz?” Woody whispered, squeezing the ranger's hand tightly. The soft glow of his suit offered that comfort that Woody was growing accustomed to as the years went on.

“Yeah?” His eyes were closed. He was tired but a smile was on his face.

“We're home. And we're safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than what was probably hoped for, and also a bit later than expected. My past two work weeks have been utterly insane so between that, upkeeping a home, and working on the rerelease of my comic coming up next month, I've just not had any spare time. But here's a chapter, I hope a decent one at that, that'll be getting us into the real meat of the story. I'm going to continue writing during this long weekend in hopes of a REALLY hefty chapter coming up but we shall see. Thank you all again for the comments, kudos, and bookmarks of the story! It really fuels a person to write!

**Author's Note:**

> My husband and I marathon-ed the first three Toy Story movies the other night and... well, my mind ran away on me. I've got a good idea where this story is going and it's been a long time since I wrote something a bit different like this but it feels nice; even if I feel a little silly and embarrassed as heck writing it. This ship may have sailed a long time ago but I write for fun and me but who knows; maybe someone else will like it, too!


End file.
